


breathe

by mish_mish



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Connor Deserves Happiness, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Feelings Realization, Literature, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Sad and Sweet, Slow Burn, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 21:05:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15826923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mish_mish/pseuds/mish_mish
Summary: They say that there is no perfect love. They say that love is difficult, that it brings suffering.Connor does not know anything about love: he gets to know it gradually, but it also knocks him down.Connor is fully aware and feels all descriptions of love on yourself, all its stages and sharp corners. It makes him breathe and it takes away all the air.





	breathe

**Author's Note:**

> So, this work will be filled by all the emotions.  
> it will consist of four parts, where each part is a feeling colored with love. the only thing I say, it will hurt. really hurt. not immediately, of course. but if anything, I'll go all this way with you.  
> and, of course, I will be immensely pleased with your feedback to understand if this work is catching your attention or not.
> 
> great thanks for the drawings for this chapter to my dear friend [skifshi](ankad.tumblr.com)

[ ](https://ibb.co/hkvB8U)

****

##  **Part I: breath in;**

****

**1\. a world with hundreds of thousands of other worlds**

Everything happens too slowly. It does not stretch like nougat, but it still is not in a normal rhythm, because everything could have been different for them, not as in a slow-motion picture. Perhaps this is just an illusion, a peculiar systemic failure, but somehow Connor can not resist it. What can he say about this? What can he say about everything that happened and can still happen?

At that time, Connor was not in love.

He was not in love, but was fascinated. He respected Markus and his decisions. He looked at him with admiration and interest.

Connor knows the definitions of many feelings, but not all of them he managed to feel. And even though he does, he knows for sure that he was not in love. At least for that moment.

He can not even say with full confidence that Markus was in love with him from the very beginning. It would be so inappropriate, because they were in the middle of the revolution, and there is no room for love. And later, when they achieved recognition and continuously held dialogues with the government, then too, there was no suitable time for the manifestation of feelings. At least, Connor did not notice anything like this, or preferred not to, but he would not deny that the leader of the deviants by the end of this summer was completely and absolutely in love with him.

 

Connor can tell up to a second when it all started, but he prefers not to choose individual pieces. He likes to read and prefers from their story to create a book, filling the pages slowly. The prologue of their story is the face of an android without a skin on the screens of the sixteenth channel TV tower, and the words that their people deserve equal rights. The prologue of their story is a gun pointed at the chest, and a couple pages of an exciting sweet victory over injustice and discrimination.

Connor takes care of this prologue, because there is nothing more important; it's their first meeting, it's determined their future.

 

Everything begins slowly, and only this summer finally gives everyone a breather after a persistent debate with the government and, finally, the recruited jobs. Of course, this was not easy, and only those types of work on which the androids were listed earlier could be bargained out: scavengers and loaders, gardeners in city parks. All those specialties that are not very well paid and people will not even think about working on it. But still it was a victory, and celebrated it in New Jericho rather modestly. Everyone shared their common plans and ideas, and only Markus was sitting on the sidelines. Under his hand were papers and copies of blanks with strokes from the government, which he read about two hours ago and now just looked at them. There were no dirty tricks and pitfalls; everything was beneficial for both sides.

Perhaps this very moment is the starting point for the first chapter of their story, when Connor departs from the opposite wall, where he silently watched the enthusiastic Jericho leaders, and walks toward Markus.

For Connor dialogue with Markus always comes out easier than with the rest. He is haunted by the stigma of the deviant’s hunter and there is nothing he can do about it, no matter how many thousands of androids he has brought out of the CyberLife tower. This is a bit disappointing, but that's why it's much nicer to hang out with Markus.

Markus was different. Markus was an android, well-bred by human. He was an android with the thoughts invested in him by human, with decisions that a human would take. Markus was unique. He was an android with a human mind. He was the one who looked a little deeper than either of them.

Connor touches the chair opposite to Markus and hesitates to ask if he can disturb his solitude. Markus nods.

"You're not participating." Connor nods toward the others.

"I think I'm just not in the mood for fun today," Markus replies with a soft half-smile.

Connor nods knowingly and looks down at the papers in front of Markus, with an easy surprise finding a turtledove drawn in a pencil in a white corner. Its wings are straightened, and it seems like it flies away from these pages, away from all the fuss in this world. Connor draws his hand to it and touches the slate lines with his fingertips. On his skin remains traces, but Connor ignores them, continuing to drive along the black lines of the wings.

"Are you so bored here that you mess up documents?" Connor does not reproach him. He smiles and looks up at Markus, who laughs gently.

"First of all, it's a copy. Secondly, I did so much to get these pieces of paper, so I have the right to draw a bird in the corner."

"It's very beautiful," Connor says honestly. It is possible that the bird is drawn thanks to android's hand, but it is painted easily and vividly, as if it could at any moments jump from these pages and fly away. This seems so beautiful to Connor.

[ ](https://ibb.co/mznf2p)

"Are you bored here, too?" Markus slightly pushes the documents away from him, paying full attention to Connor. "They're pretty noisy sometimes, right?"

"No, that's not the point," RK800 shakes his head. "It's just that I probably prefer the type of noise that is inherent in the police department. Here I simply do not know what to do."

"You can always leave," Markus says about this, and Connor nods: yes, he can leave, but he does not want to leave, because Hank knows how to convince that this kind of meeting where victory or success is celebrated in some way, are important. They help to get closer, they point out that you achieved this by common efforts.

"Yes, but ... Is not it right to be here with the others?"

"If you are uncomfortable with this, then this is not the right thing to do." Markus thinks for a second, and, as if deciding something for himself, he says: "How about we get out of here together?"

"What?" Connor asks, looking at how the leader of the deviants rises.

"Of course you can stay. Maybe North even descends to invite you to join them."

Markus shrugs. He already knows in advance that Connor will go with him, because in the past times he has always done so.

 

They leave the main hall, and nobody really notices that they are going away. This is somewhat encouraging that they went unnoticed, but on the other hand, Connor would also like to participate in something so fascinating to not notice anything around.

They pass through the long corridors of the mansion owned by Carl Manfred during his lifetime. Markus, if possible, separates the mansion from all that may be associated with the revolution, because for him this place has always been a home. Connor sees it in his gaze as they walk down the stairs and corridors. Markus cherished this house as a dear memory of Carl, and he does not want that this mansion, through his fault, painted itself with associations of insurrection. Perhaps he prefers this house to be a kind of island of stability and warmth, the comfort that Carl gave to Markus during his lifetime. Perhaps, just for this reason, all the meetings here are rare, and the mansion itself permeates the atmosphere of seclusion and peace, as if he is sleeping soundly.

Sometimes, Connor thinks about why Markus does not live here. He walks the floors as if he were in a museum, and spending nights here only when he has no other choice. Connor wonders, but he never asks, realizing now that there are personal boundaries that you should not overstep.

They turn around the corner, and Markus opens the door, giving Connor the opportunity to enter first. The room is not so big; it is divided into bookshelves and racks of expensive wood, the aroma of which overflows this room. Connor looks around, approaches the bookcases and runs his fingers along the spines of the books. Nowadays it is very rare to find printed books, everything is stored digitally, and here, in Carl Manfred's mansion, although not an extensive collection, but still quite impressive.

"Library?"

There's no surprise in Connor's voice, just a slight bewilderment, because he assumed that Markus would lead him to show the studio where Carl was drawing, or they would go in the greenhouse together, but he did not expected the library.

"It's quiet here," Markus shrugs, approaches closer to the shelves and stops next to Connor. "It looks like another world, cut off from all fuss. Here you seem to be in a world containing hundreds of thousands of other worlds. Right here on the shelves, you just need to reach out and pick the one you want to dive in today."

Connor looks down embarrassed. He was always puzzled by such statements of Markus. He is an android and his main processors are set for analysis and pragmatism, for decision-making, guided by the utmost expediency. He still can not adapt, so as to think as swiftly as Markus.

He watches as the swarthy fingers of the deviants leader glide along the spines of the books, as if greeting them. Markus looks for one that will capture his attention today, and Connor becomes irresistibly wondering what kind of book this will be.

Markus takes a book with a blue cover and a golden border around the edges. Herman Melville. "Moby Dick or White Whale".

"Carl advised me to read it," Markus says with a slight smile, caused by memories. "Of course, it seemed to me to be quite mediocre, even sometimes cruel. But in order to understand something, it is necessary to look at it more than once. Carl said so. "

"An interesting opinion," Connor says a little more restrainedly, but does not tear his gaze away from Markus's hands clutching the book. "What is it about?"

"Do you want to read it?"

[ ](https://ibb.co/nnc2F9)

It seems that Markus sees through him, and you can not hide from his green-blue eyes. However, Connor did not even try. He draws his hand to the book, but when his fingers just touch the cover, Markus adds:

"But I have one condition. You read it slowly, like people, then perception is different."

This is a strange request; what good is it to waste time reading slowly and missing the opportunity to read other books. He can read a dozen books on his usual android’s speed instead of one book, but Markus restricts it and this again leads Connor to a dead end. With Markus always like that, like Connor walking through a labyrinth and bumping into dead ends from hedges, then turning to the right paths, surrounded by green foliage. For some reason, with Markus it is the garden labyrinth with interlocking paths, but it's much better than the Zen garden.

"It will take time and…"

"This is just the whole point, believe me." 

RK200 gives him a book and maybe accidentally, maybe not, but touches Connor's fingers with his own. Nothing unusual, a simple touch that not last a minute, but Connor feels a vibration in his chest anyway. He thinks about it only now, looking at Markus's hands, at his dark fingers, while he chooses another book: they never had a connection. He saw Markus touched the hands of other androids and cleared for them the way to the breakdown of the program's wall of obedience, as he gave them hope. He saw him touch the North’s and Simon’s palms in another touch, with a different meaning. He never touched Markus this way himself. Would Connor want that? It is possible that yes, but he does not know why he needs it. His program is broken, the path is cleared. There is absolutely no justification for this desire.

He again rests on the deciduous dead end of his labyrinth and exhales briefly. Again. Markus again leads him here.

"There will not be painted birds on the pages of this book?" Connor asks with a smile and Markus shakes his head slightly.

"No. No birds."

This answer slightly disappoints Connor. He liked the turtledove and the lines of her wings, and he would like the bird to accompany him during the reading. But he looks at the cover of the book and thinks that maybe there will be other drawings.

 

Their story begins with this; with a light half-smile, with dry pages of books and with conversations about a bird. Their story begins slowly. It slowly rolls in the hot rays of the rising summer sun.


End file.
